Red, The Colour of Despair
by the milliner's rook
Summary: It was strange how much difference one colour could make.


Sequel to: Sweating Like A Sinner In Church. Written for the HitsuKarin Secret Santa Fic Exchange._  
_

Prompt: ornament.

* * *

Red changes her, somehow. She's worn the colour countless times, bright and bold and brash, impossible to ignore. It's a colour that suits her. Except. There's something about the colour today that makes her prettier than usual, accentuated against the midnight black locks of hair. She wears red and she changes, and now Toushirou can't stop noticing the subtle differences it brings, as her eyes light up and she talks to him, the grin on her face becoming more pronounced as each second passing because she's caught him staring at her and—

Oh.

"What is it?" Karin asks, eyebrow rising into an arch, the danger of her cherry mouth twisting into a smirk now a distinct reality.

Her lips sharpen under the gleam of revealed teeth, and Karin idly watches him become flustered with fumbled words that that become too entangled with the truth: how he sees the softer glow of pink cheeks and loveliness of her face in a way he hasn't before and it's all because of red.

"Out with it." Her touch is all the push he needs, the back of her hand swatting his shoulder like swatting a fly, pitying him as she leaves him floundering.

"The ribbon in your hair." He says, blunt and stupid and unsure what to say apart from the obvious. "I've never seen you wear that before."

"It's new. Yuzu gave it to me." Karin tells him, flushing with pride, cheeks pretty and pinker in contrast to the red bow tied neatly in her hair. It makes her look more girly, he thinks fleetingly, and doesn't know what to make of that. She looks at him, cherry lips parting, considering. "… do you like it?"

"Yes." It's a good look, he decides, nodding. Karin beams at his response. "It looks good."

It was strange, he thought, how much difference one colour could make.

* * *

It's not the red. It's not the red that changes her, he realizes belatedly, face buried in his hands, elbow deep in paperwork when the epiphany strikes. It's the _ribbon_.

The red ribbon that sits so daintily on her head, distracting him whenever he comes to visit. Taunting him, silently, and bouncing with each step Karin takes, flapping carefree in the breeze whenever they sit together on the hill and talk about anything and everything and nothing at all.

How had it come to this?

How had he become slightly obsessed with a ribbon?

Not just any ribbon. But _Karin's._

The ribbon had changed her. The mystery was how.

* * *

The answer comes to him in pieces, revelations that are tantalizingly red and silky and ribbon shaped like a bow, horrible and frustratingly slow.

The ribbon hadn't changed her. The ribbon was the tipping point.

In reality, the ribbon had only sealed her destiny.

The fact of the matter was, it was _Karin_ who had changed, long before that, and Toushirou had never noticed until that fated red ribbon.

It had started when Karin decided to grow her hair out. Gradually over time, her jet hair had reached her shoulders, and then at some point after that, it was too long to remain loose, so she tied her hair up with a scrunchie. She's the star player, after all, she'd told him with a confident grin, and how could she win with her hair in the way?

And then, at some point, she began wearing skirts. At first, she'd sighed and complained and said it was weird. Kind of made her feel like an alien. But it had to be done. Wearing leggings helped, as part of the transition process into adjusting to high school uniform, but that didn't mean that she had to like it. But she got used to it, and Toushirou became accustomed to the sight of Karin wearing skirts as well, even though the majority of the time Karin preferred wearing faded jeans.

He'd accepted these changes because Karin was his friend. He accepted it because he didn't think it mattered. He didn't think it mattered because he hadn't cared about small details like this.

Then came along a red ribbon and apparently he _did_.

He'd thought it once before, then forced himself to forget.

The ribbon made her look like a girl. She was turning into a girl, and Toushirou was helpless against this ascension of girlishness.

Rationally, he _knows_ that Karin has always been a girl. But—it's different when it's Karin. Girls were soft and sweet and gentle and giggled a lot. Karin was—_is_—hard edges and calloused hands, unafraid to get her clothes muddy, playing soccer and taking his food without his consent, and then smirking at him because there's part of her that's just a little bit feral. Karin … lacked that girliness factor. He can't imagine her being so… girly.

Although—

Although when he thinks about it, the tissue incident might have been a pretty good indicator that she was heading towards… _that._ But she'd made a promise, and Karin sticks to her promises. No weaponization would occur. He had sighed in relief and Karin had laughed, rolling her eyes and calling him an idiot. The sound of laughter had lessened the embarrassment.

He hadn't minded that. He minded that she was steadily becoming taller than him, it bruised his pride slightly, but it wasn't a serious problem. They were friends, they would remain friends, and something like this wouldn't be an obstacle in their friendship. He knew she would grow up, and that she would change as she became older – that was part of the process of becoming a teenager.

And she had. Just not in the way he predicted.

Toushirou sighs, chest heaving as he knew he had to reconsider the entire situation. He'd have to get used to it, realize that Karin is still the same person she always was, and, even more difficultly, admit and believe that an evil red ribbon hadn't possessed her.

* * *

It was a normal red ribbon on a not so normal girl.

* * *

It's not as simple as it seems.

Logically—_logically_, Toushirou knows that Karin is still the same person always was, treating him as brusquely and carelessly since the day they first met. But somehow, it's hard to believe when he can't stop _noticing_ the hard tilt of her chin and the frame of her softened face with the appearance of one pretty little red ribbon.

He thought he would be able to cope.

But then she _experiments_, and somehow, all his restraint and coping mechanisms go up in flames.

* * *

It is not, Toushirou maintains, _Karin's_ fault. It is the ribbon's.

No longer does it rest high on the top of Karin's hair, but instead, it rests elegantly on her collar, the loose ends curling into the remaining strands of hair. It lazes around the nape of her neck, and he glares at it, wishing that he could something—_anything_—that would make these feelings go away.

Heaven help him, but it just makes Karin more attractive.

He has always found Karin beautiful, but this is simply unfair.

"What's wrong?" Karin asks, concerned, eyes wide, lashes dark and casting long shadows on the curve of her cheek. "You've been acting really weirdly lately."

"Everything's fine." Toushirou says, and internally despairs.

"You're a bad liar." Karin states, bluntly as ever, seeing right through him. She doesn't look too impressed at him, and then blinks back, brushing her bangs behind her ears, and it's so feminine and girly that Toushirou kind of forgets to breathe. "You want to try again?"

He says nothing.

"You're such a pain, sometimes." She grits her teeth, and tries again, like she's seconds away from losing her temper. She glances to the side, takes a deep breath, visibly calmer but no less annoyed, and meets his gaze. "It's not healthy to bottle your feelings and pretend like there's nothing wrong, when_ something_ is eating away at you."

And suddenly another piece of the jigsaw puzzle falls into place and the picture becomes a little bit clearer.

"Are you dating someone?" He asks, just as blunt as she.

When he thinks about it, neither one of them are very good at being subtle. They tend to let things stew for a while, before concern gets the best of them, and they blurt out whatever they've been hiding all this time. In one case, tissues all over his office. It's going to be a long time before he forgets that one.

"What?" Karin splutters out, cheeks crimson bright and a worthy challenge against the ribbon so snug against her throat.

Silence suspends them, Karin staring at him incredulously and simultaneously becoming more and more red-faced until her shoulders start shaking and her hand is pressed to her mouth and—

… and she's laughing at him.

"What? _That's_ what you were so… wow." And she's crying too. Karin wipes the tears out of her eyes and Toushirou looks away, mouth drawn into a regular frown, waiting for the moment to end. And end. And end. "Why do you think that?"

He tries fervently not to look at the red ribbon and refuses to look at Karin period.

"Toushirou." Karin tries to coax him, speaking in soft tones. "I promise I won't laugh."

"You already did." He points out, and he can see her flush out of the corner of his vision, and when he properly looks at her, she does have the sense to appear bashful.

"Yeah, but." Karin shrugs, raising and dropping her shoulders because she can't find the words to even begin to come up with some sort of defence. She shakes her head and opens her mouth, before shutting it and thinking carefully. "That was because I was completely unprepared for it. And no, to answer your question. I am _not_ dating anyone."

It's a little more emphatic that he would have imagined, but, she answers his question, cross and suspicious, nose upturned in bewilderment.

"What made you think that?"

He squirms under her curious gaze, mortification spreading like wildfire over the bridge of his nose and the plains of his cheeks.

"The ribbon." Toushirou mumbles, not entirely sure how he was able to survive the outcome of this conversation when he is sure to be digging his own grave. He pauses, observing her reaction. But Karin is a blank canvas, hard to read, and unexpectedly expressionless. Waiting patiently for the full story. He starts again. "You look like a girl with the ribbon."

Nervously, he waits for her to react.

Except he doesn't, losing his calm and blurting things clumsily out like he's just been injected with a rush of sugar and he can't stay still while she scrutinizes him with a truly magnificent stink-eye.

"And—I know, you _are_ girl. That's you. You've always been a girl. It's just, I didn't mean to assume otherwise, because you're you, Karin. You're you." He is aware, to some degree, that he's rambling. That doesn't mean he can make himself _stop_ _talking._ "But you're also not—girly. You don't—you're not—well. You're a tomboy. Not feminine. And it's weird. Seeing you pretty and… and feminine. It's nice. But it's confusing. And I didn't even notice until the ribbon and—"

"_Alright._" Karin cuts him off, raising both her hands to tell him to stop and Toushirou bites his tongue, horribly aware that somewhere along the way he went too far, only he can't pinpoint _how_ or _when_ only that he's a great big idiot and this is his entire fault. "I got the picture."

Well, Toushirou thinks bitterly, feeling miserable, at least that makes one of them.

"You stupid idiot." Karin begins, glowering at him like she wished that he would dissolve into atoms. "Just because I wear pretty things, like, I don't know, wearing a _ribbon—_that doesn't mean that I won't stop playing soccer and will not hesitate to be the better player. I will still score more goals than you and beat you one-on-one. That's still me. Now, listen. Being girly is fun. Being a tomboy and hanging out with you—that is still fun. There's not … I don't have to be one or the other. I can be both. I'm still me. Do you think I'll kick up a fuss the day you get a haircut and miraculously, it'll look even more floofy?" She glares at him and he sinks further into the ground, feeling self-conscious. "No, I will not. Furthermore!" She continues her tirade, folding her arms over her chest, and takes a deep breath. When she talks again, she sounds sad. "What happened to the friend who said that he liked me just the way I was?"

"I do!" Toushirou protests, before folding in on himself, mumbling quietly. "You look good."

"You said that about the ribbon too." Flatly, Karin replies, unimpressed and stands up to leave.

"Karin—"

"_Goodbye."_

* * *

Toushirou wanders about for a while after that, not really sure what he can do. He should apologize, countless times, and try and make it up to her. If only she wasn't avoiding him. If only he wasn't avoiding her.

He hadn't meant to be so thick-headed, it had just _happened._

And then it just kind of blew up on his face. Thankfully, his office was left intact this time around. His dignity, much like the other time, was not.

Truthfully, it's not as if Karin _acts_ girly. She's still as heartless as ever, arrogant, and cheeky, sharp-tongued and with a cutting smile. There hasn't been a personality rewrite. She still has no concept of personal space and frequently banters with him and treats him like one of the guys. The only difference now is that she's taller than when they first met, and she wears skirts now. She still acts the same, for most part, announcing her hunger to the world when she is hungry and with relish wolfs down food.

Therefore, he had to appeal to the girly side to her. And most likely the food side of her.

To apologize and say that he's been a colossal idiot.

And that she's very pretty.

* * *

To stay safe, he waits a few days, just to hope that he doesn't incur her wrath by accident.

And to hope that she's calmed down when they meet again.

* * *

He knocks on the door hesitantly, and waits.

"Come in." Karin calls, eyes fixed on the TV screen, bashing buttons as she struggles to beat the current fight, before she sighs, pauses the game, and glances at him, contempt marring her beauty a second later. No, she's beautiful even then. "Oh. It's _you._"

He deserves that.

"I'm sorry." He says, sincere, and thinks that he probably has a long way to go before she forgives him completely. "You were right. I was being a jerk."

"I'm glad you're admitting it." Karin states, still sounding cold. "Do you have anything else to say?"

"I brought you something." Taking his hands from his back, he reveals the presents he was hiding. He'd even taken the time to wrap them up just so she could tear them apart. "I thought might like this."

"You can't buy my forgiveness that easily." Deadpanning, Karin's hand is already outstretched. "Give me."

Her hair is a mess today. It's loose, and slightly curled, locks of hair swishing as she moves, and it's a nice look. She should wear her hair down more often.

"Well. Chocolate is a good start." Karin grins, and there is some hint of affection in her dimpled smile. "It's not everything, but. It's good." She nods, and then adds. "But you can't win all our arguments this way."

"We'll cross that bridge when we get there." Toushirou scowls. It's not like they haven't argued before. "Now open the other one."

"Patience," Karin teases, but obliges him all the same.

Toushirou doesn't even realize that he's holding his breath until Karin is laughing to herself, partly in disbelief, partly in amazement, and she threads the green ribbon around her fingers.

He nearly mumbles that she's supposed to put it on her head, before he remembers that she already knows that.

"I decided that maybe, red isn't your colour." Hastily, he corrects himself, because a month of floundering and acting strangely all because his best friend suddenly turned even more stunning clearly showed that that wasn't the case. "Wait, no. Red is your colour. I thought that green could be too."

"Impressive." Karin says; nonplussed for a few seconds before a wickedly twisted grin curves in a familiar way that Toushirou has closely associated with trouble. "I have to admit, this is good."

"I didn't mean to be such a…"

"Stupid idiot?" Her eyebrow arches.

"Yeah." He agrees readily. "And then some."

"Well, you're not out the woods yet. Just, give me a second." Karin states, and moves past him. "Stay here. I'll be back in a second."

He doesn't really know what to do in the meantime, so he just makes himself comfortable where she was sitting. With luck, this might end with Karin defeating him in the most humiliating manner because he still doesn't know how to button mash properly, and life will go on, their friendship resumed.

"Back." Karin announces herself, standing at the doorway, and Toushirou looks up, expecting the green ribbon to be used in the exact same way the red ribbon was.

Instead of holding her hair in a ponytail, it serves as a hairband, the bow neatly on off-centre at her head. Her hair is still loose and tumbling past her shoulders as she walks forward towards him, and he finds himself at a loss of words until she grins at him, mischief dancing in her glittering eyes, and grabs the controller. The game is still on hold.

"I like it." Toushirou grins back, and means every word. It's a good look. Green is a good colour on her. "It's very you."

"Thanks." Karin smiles softly, and there's something else that's different. "Sure you're not going to spend another month freaking out?"

"I promise."

"Good."

It's her lips. They're redder than usual.

Not that he's staring.

"… is that." He blinks, and gazes at her, slightly uncertain. "Are you wearing lipstick?"

Her grin widens, and her teeth are sharp and fierce and dangerously gleaming. "Yup."

There's an ominous sense of dread building up in his stomach that is rarely proven wrong.

He should probably resign himself to this.

"… it's very red."

"So glad you noticed." He gets the feeling that Karin is relishing every minute and that what's going to happen next is something terrible and scarring and he regrets every second when it happens.

He doesn't expect a kiss on the cheek.

"There. That wasn't so bad, was it?" Her lips are warm again him, and he releases a breath he didn't know he had. "Okay. You're forgiven."

"That's it?" He turns to face her, searching for something—anything—to give him a hint. There's no possible feasible way that's how easy it is. He's getting off lightly. And someone like Karin—not that he doubts that she could hold a grudge when she puts her mind to it, but he doubts that she's through.

"Alright. Two more kisses for the other two days." Karin concedes, and Toushirou wonders if this was part of her revenge plan after all. But how can kisses be a _punishment?_

Either way, she kisses his other cheek and kisses his forehead, and then gives him a bright smile that confirms that he's forgiven. There's a strange sense of absolution lingering in the air, and he wonders if that's just because his face feels like it's on fire.

He thinks he can smell strawberry.

"You want to play?" Karin asks, handing him another controller, completely comfortable and nonchalant, as if nothing strange had happened at all, they weren't fighting and she was naturally this affectionate with kisses, and it was just another lazy afternoon where they just played videogames.

"S-Sure." Toushirou takes it, and Karin returns to the menu screen, and everything's back to normal again.

They carry on like that for a while, Karin winning, Toushirou nearly winning, and occasionally win.

That is, until he wipes his forehead.

"Toushirou," Karin says, suddenly, smirking ever so slightly, the corners of her mouth upturned, "the lipstick—"

"Makes you look very pretty." He feels foolish for not mentioning this before.

"I'm not fishing for compliments, but thanks." Karin smiles at him, and at the same time Toushirou feels elation and a horrible sense of dread that proves all his unfounded fears right. She continues. "The lipstick I bought is pretty cheap stuff. It smears like crazy. And it's difficult to get off." Motioning to his hand, with apprehension, Toushirou slowly turns his hand over.

Sticky and red and in the shape of a blurred mouth all across the back of his hand.

"I hate you." Toushirou says, just as the narrator's voice says _KO_ and Karin wins the match again.

"Revenge." Karin grins evilly, triumphant.

"Three kisses." The words sound like echoes, repeated in his mind so much that he can't remember if he said it out loud like he's just received a death sentence. Because that's what it sounds like in his mind.

"Good luck." Her grin is beautiful and red and bright, a mockery of all things sacred. Toushirou hates it even when he doesn't. It is too pretty to not be admired.

"You're wearing it too." Toushirou points out.

"True." Karin agrees, and then shrugs, blasé. "It's a small price to pay in order to achieve my goals."

"Why." It's not a question, just a statement of utter dark morbidness to an answer he doesn't want to hear.

"Because," Karin beams, pretty and girly and tomboy all at once, her fingers pressing buttons so quickly that it means there will be another match which will end in horrific failure in a second if he doesn't watch himself, the green bow slanted and dainty on her ebony hair. Her jubilation is a ruby flush spread across the carved bone edge of her cheeks. And Toushirou adores her, and it's astonishing how he's already lost, again and again and _again_ to one impish smirk so delightful and strawberry sweet_._ "Being a girl is _awesome_."


End file.
